There are witches aloft in the land. They swoop around on their unlikely brooms, trailing moonmotes and surfspume, slipping through the cracks between reason and anxiety, letting fly a blast of dazzledust, chilipepper and helium… In a fit of sneezing and laughter, the unsuspecting souls caught offguard taking themselves too seriously are airborne temporarily, lifted high enough above the earth to remember their proper place. One stubborn individual, upon being returned to her feet, smoothed her skirts, shook the clouds from her hair and the stars from her eyes, put on some lipstick and fell happily into her lover’s arms.